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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25735675">I Wonder if Devils Get Nightmares</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/probsnothawkeye/pseuds/probsnothawkeye'>probsnothawkeye</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnus Archives (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Gen, Nightmares, but he doesn't get murdered, but not like super angsty, but that's a given, it's more like canon with one added aspect, jon has no idea how to take care of himself, kinda canon divergence-y but not really, self sacrificing jon, set in season 4, specifically the idea of murdering jon, this does talk about murder a lot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 01:57:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,579</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25735675</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/probsnothawkeye/pseuds/probsnothawkeye</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"I wonder if devils get nightmares of all of their victims as well" - The Mechanisms, "Broken Horses"</p>
<p>Fresh statements cause Jon to appear in the statement giver's dreams. What happens when old statements start having the same effect?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Basira Hussain &amp; Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist &amp; Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Melanie King &amp; Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>42</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I Wonder if Devils Get Nightmares</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello hello!<br/>So I was just listening to pretty much only The Mechanisms for a solid week and when I heard this line in "Broken Horses" I immediately decided I had to torture Jon with the same thought<br/>Because it works so well for both Ulysses and Jarchivist Sims<br/>I'd say this is canon at a 5 degree angle<br/>Mostly canon compliant but I invent a new way for Jon to suffer<br/>Hope you enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Screaming. Someone was screaming. Jon looked around the desecrated landscape, hearing screams but seeing no one. Something about the horror surrounding Jon was familiar, as if he’d been here before.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>As if it had been Known before.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Another scream as Jon whipped around, finally laying eyes on the person making the noise. It was a woman, she was shaking on the ground, trying her best to cover her eyes and ears, shielding herself from the horrors around her.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It clearly wasn’t working.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Jon moved towards her, reaching a hand out to help her up, but the sight of him just made her scream louder. She scrambled away from Jon, the terror in her eyes increasing ten fold. The screams seemed to be growing louder and louder, coming from her and from all around and-</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon awoke at his desk with a start, the sound of screaming still ringing in his ears. Glancing at the clock above the door, he saw it was just after midnight. He couldn’t remember the last time he had fallen asleep at his desk like this, and he definitely couldn’t remember the last time he had a dream like that.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He couldn’t shake the feeling that the woman in his dream could really, truly see him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sighing, Jon pushed back from his desk, making his way over to the break room to see if there was any food of any kind lying around. It wasn’t what he was hungry for, but it would have to do in this instance.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The archives were almost supernaturally quiet at this time of night, and part of him wondered if that was a more apt description that he would hope for. Still, Jon relished the silence, no prying eyes or ears around to express their dislike for him and his work habits. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>In the break room, he found a sandwich with a note to him from Daisy, telling him that it was left on purpose. He wasn’t sure when he and Daisy started being friends, perhaps rescuing someone from a cosmic horror was a better unifier than he thought. Regardless, Jon took the sandwich and made a cup of tea before heading back to his office. There was no point in trying to sleep again, so at least he could get some work done.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Looking over the statements on his desk as he ate, Jon noticed something peculiar. The top statement, from a woman called Gwendolyn, contained details that were strikingly familiar. It described a desolate landscape with no one around, only ruin and Gwendolyn alone. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was what Jon had seen in his dream.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh no.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>***</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It was dark. No light of any kind seeping through the open windows despite the fact that the clock on the wall clearly labeled it as daytime. It was as if the sun had been reduced to nothingness, leaving only the pitch black.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>And yet Jon could still see.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He moved through the inky darkness, unsure of what he was moving toward, but moving with a confidence that Jon had never known before.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>That’s when he spotted the man lying on the floor.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Clearly he was meant to find this man, to help this man. The man could not see in the darkness, but Jon could, Jon could help him find his way out.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>As he moved closer, though, the man began to scream.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>A room devoid of all light, but the image of Jon burning so clear into his mind. Jon stumbled back, but the damage was done. Screams filled the room, echoing through the space.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A knock at the door woke Jon from his wretched dream. He didn’t even need to look down at the statement on his desk to know that it would match with the dream still dancing around the edges of his brain. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Come in,” he called, trying his best to keep his voice steady. His heart was racing, though not from fear. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>From joy.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The Beholding clearly was enjoying this.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Basira walked in, looking as stoic as ever. “We hadn’t heard any noise in a while, wanted to make sure you hadn’t slipped out on us,” the look on her face was sharp, cutting Jon directly to the core. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No, no, I just… Fell asleep,” Jon said softly, not meeting Basira’s gaze. They knew about what happened to those he took fresh statements from, they didn’t know he was starting to see all of the statements he read in his dreams. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>If they were living and gave their fears to the Institute, Jon was sure to appear in their nightmares at some point.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Telling Basira and the others that was sure to get him killed. The thought was tempting to Jon, a way to finally be free of all of this. But Jon wanted to live, and more than that Beholding wanted Jon to live.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Basira was still staring at him intensely, studying him. Finally she nodded. “Daisy brought you food again. And I’m going to have to go out for a bit, so she’ll probably want to sit with you. Likes you more than Melanie, though I’m not sure why.” Jon chuckled and Basira smiled, only briefly. “Try not to fall asleep again during work hours, Jon.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon nodded as Basira left, taking stock of the statements littering his desk. The statement that caused his dream sat there staring at Jon. He sighed again, moving it to the side and putting his head in his hands. Weeks had passed since the first nightmare from reading a statement rather than taking it directly and Jon was tired. It seemed that trying to stay awake was fruitless, as sleep always overtook him somehow. Still, he had gone multiple days without sleeping this time, perhaps it could work.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Trying to limit sleep and statement intake was exhausting, though.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Another knock at the door shook Jon from his thoughts. He couldn’t even get a word out of his mouth before Daisy was slipping through the door, a book in her hands. She looked at him momentarily, and Jon could see that she was warring with herself over whether or not to say anything. Finally, she sat down, opening her book, but occasionally peeking over the top to look at Jon.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What is it, Daisy?” he asked, voice somewhere between angry and exhausted.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You look tired, Jon,” she said simply, closing her book to look at him. “Have you been sleeping?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Jon says after a moment. “No, I haven’t been.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You need to sleep, Jon,” Daisy said, moving toward his desk slowly, as if approaching a frightened animal. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t,” Jon said, and he feels himself breaking as he says it. Tears are welling up in his eyes, and he tries desperately to blink them away. “I can’t, Daisy.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Daisy is finally next to him at the desk, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Even the devil needs sleep, Jon,” she says jokingly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I wonder if devils get nightmares of all of their victims as well,” Jon spits out bitterly as the first tears make their way down his cheek. Daisy’s hand stiffens on his shoulder and for a moment Jon thinks she is about to pull away and go get Melanie to put him down like an injured horse. But then the hand on his shoulder starts to rub gently, and that opens the floodgates behind Jon’s eyes. He sobs, head in his hands, as Daisy stands beside him, trying her best to calm him down.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What happened, Jon?” Daisy asked, pulling a chair over so she can sit next to him. Jon shook his head, unable to look up at his colleague, his </span>
  <em>
    <span>friend</span>
  </em>
  <span>, next to him. Daisy sighed. “Jon, I can’t help if you don’t tell me what happened.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ll kill me,” he whispered out, voice broken by grief and fear. “You’ll kill me, and you’ll be within your rights, but… I don’t want to die.” Jon’s voice got softer with each word spoken. Resignation colored his features as he took a deep breath, finally looking over at Daisy. “Please, just be quick about it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon was surprised to see concern, more specifically concern for </span>
  <em>
    <span>Jon</span>
  </em>
  <span>, written on Daisy’s face. “Jon… Did you take a statement from someone?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No! No, I promised I wouldn’t I-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Daisy held up her hand. “So then </span>
  <em>
    <span>what happened</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I… People I took statements from, they had nightmares about me, correct?” Jon said slowly, trying to make this as clinical an assessment as possible. Daisy nodded, still looking confused. “So we decided I could only read statements that were already given.” Another nod from Daisy. “Well… the statements are… people who gave statements in the past are having nightmares about me. And I know because I see them every time I fall asleep. They can see me, Daisy. The real me, in these nightmares. It doesn’t matter how old the statement is, if the person is still alive they see me. And I tried reading statements from the dead but they just make me </span>
  <em>
    <span>hungrier </span>
  </em>
  <span>and… And you have to kill me. Or, rather, someone does. That was the deal.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Jon-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No, Daisy. The deal was I could keep living if I wasn’t hurting anyone. But no matter what I do, someone is getting hurt. There’s not… There’s no ethical consumption under The Eye,” Jon said with a hollow laugh. “Trying to fight it will surely kill me anyway, I’m too entwined with Beholding. At least this will be quicker.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Daisy was quiet for a moment, eyes looking directly into Jon’s. “Do you think I should be killed, Jon?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The question took him aback. “Not at all, Daisy. You’re- You’re fighting it. You’re fighting The Hunt. You’re able to push it away entirely. You’re… You deserve to live.” Daisy opened her mouth to speak, but Jon held up a hand, eyes pleading with her to wait. Silence filled the space for a moment before Jon spoke again. “I am, and alway will, lose this fight, Daisy. There is no way for me to stop sleeping and stop reading statements and still live. I’m a monster, and monsters need to be stopped.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Daisy stood up, moving toward the door. She stopped just before turning the handle and looked back at Jon. “A monster wouldn’t care about all the harm he’s doing, Jon. A monster wouldn’t try to fight. You’re many things, Jonathan Sims, but a monster isn’t one of them.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>***</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Running. Panting. Wondering when it will end.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>There is no sign of what he’s running from, so perhaps he’s the one doing the chasing. Someone is hiding in the tree ahead of him, thinking that height will keep them safe from the thing following them.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>A foolish thought. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>They lash out as he bounds up the tree, trying to throw him off his rhythm. But it’s to no avail. Jon is standing before them, looking into their eyes. They scream. They always scream. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Jon.” A stern voice calls from in front of him, waking him instantly. Jon looks and sees Basira, Melanie, and Daisy standing in the door to his office. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He had nearly forgotten what had happened yesterday with him and Daisy, too caught up in someone else’s nightmare to recall his own. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Silently, Jon stood up from his desk. He reached into the drawer and pulled out a key to the tunnels, the best place for this to occur without trouble being caused for the rest of them. It hit Jon in that moment that there would be no one to miss him. The three in front of him certainly wouldn’t, and Georgie made it quite clear where she stood. Tim and Sasha were gone, he had no family to speak of anymore and Martin…</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Perhaps it was better this way.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wordlessly, he handed the key to Basira and nodded. She looked at him quizzically, and for a moment Jon feared that she was going to do things here. “You… You’ll get caught.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her expression softened, if only for a moment. “Jon… Sit down.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon didn’t move, now looking at Basira with confusion coloring his features. “I… I’d rather do this quickly, if you don’t mind. Not that it’s what I deserve, but well… I had hoped, I suppose.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Jon,” she says again, more firmly than before, but still with a soft edge to it. “Jon, we’re not going to kill you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon looked at the women in front of him incredulously, hand with the key in it still stretched out to Basira. “I… I don’t understand.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Shocking,” Melanie said flatly, rolling her eyes. But even she had a tinge of softness to her as she looked at Jon. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We had an agreement, and I violated it,” Jon said, still holding out the key. “And, it’s possible, with the loss of The Archivist, you… you may be able to leave the archives.” There was silence as the women stared at Jon, hand grasping the key now shaking. “Please, all I ask is that you do it quickly.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Daisy stepped forward slowly, hand coming to wrap around Jon’s gently. She pushed it away, leaving a shaking Jon with the key to the tunnels still in his hands. “We’re going to help you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“There’s no helping me anymore.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes there is,” Basira said, stepping towards Jon as well. “There has to be.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m a liability. There are no new rituals to be occurring any time soon, except whatever thing Peter Lukas is filling Martin’s head with, but he says he has that handled. Keeping me around is dangerous and it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurting people</span>
  </em>
  <span>-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We know that, you idiot,” Melanie snapped. She was still standing by the door, arms crossed, looking at Jon in frustration. “Trust me, we know. And sure, maybe I want to kill you, but that’s just because you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>, not because of what you’re doing. You’re trying you best. We’ve let others live for far longer because they were trying their best.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The weight of everything that had been happening lately finally collapsed over Jon as sobs once again flowed from his mouth. He dropped back into the chair behind him, still shaking and sobbing, as the others moved towards him, trying their best to comfort him. Fear that had built up in him dissipated, and for that moment he let himself believe things would be okay.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Things would be okay. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>***</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The sky was looking back at him.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hello Jon” it whispered as it stared down at Jon. “Apologies for the deception.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Eyes kept popping up in the vast sky above him, staring into his soul and repeating those useless words “Apologies for the deception”. The eyes were not apologetic. They wanted this to happen.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>And Jon had made it happen. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The scream came from Jon this time, as no one else was around to make the noise themself. The noise traveled into the sky, feeding the ever appearing eyes-</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Jon, Jon wake up!” a voice, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Martin</span>
  </em>
  <span>, said softly as he shook Jon awake. “Jon, come on, love, come back to me.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon opened his eyes to see the ceiling of the safehouse staring back at him. He was still shaking as Martin ran his fingers through Jon’s hair, whispering soft reassurances that it was just a dream.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon tried to allow Martin to lull him back into a sense of calm, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was different.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He had never seen anything like this before.</span>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then that image was all he saw.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are always appreciated but never required. Come say hi on <a href="https://probsnothawkeye.tumblr.com/">tumblr!</a> It's multifandom hell but in a good way I think</p></blockquote></div></div>
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